


Copsucker

by flootzavut



Series: When Larry Met Freddy [10]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-typical language, Fix-It, M/M, Sex Talk, When Larry Met Freddy, queer, threat of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 18:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: Larry's not used to feeling so powerless.





	Copsucker

**Author's Note:**

> This is not remotely sexually explicit, I just feel like the tone of it is quite dark and edges into T/M border territory, so I'm erring on the side of caution :)

* * *

_**Copsucker** _

* * *

 

Freddy starts getting jumpy again the moment he puts that goddamned wedding ring back on.

Larry wants to tell him leave it, don't bother, it doesn't matter, but he knows Joe would notice. It's the kind of little detail Joe would pick up on. He didn't realise Larry was making eyes at Orange back in that bar, he might have missed the vibe between them the whole fucking night - hell, Larry would probably have to pull Freddy into his lap and start making out with him for Joe to imagine his best guy was planning to deliberately mislead him for the sake of some kid he's only known a few weeks - but something concrete like a missing wedding ring...

Joe might be fucking clueless about emotions, but a disappearing ring is something he'll spot straight away, and they don't need to give him any reason to suspect he's being fed a line.

Larry wants to reassure Freddy, but he doesn't know how, can't think of a way to calm him down that doesn't involve sucking or fucking him, which... well, okay, sounds like fun, but now they're both more or less presentable (if a little worse for wear), it's probably not a great idea to screw around.

Joe's pretty happy to turn a blind eye on Larry's extra-curricular activities as long as Larry does his job and does it well, but turning up at his place rumpled and stinking of sex when they're not even supposed to be talking outside of the heist... Larry ain't fool enough to think Papa would be happy with Junior if he knew Junior was screwing the new guy into the mattress every chance he got. Joe likes him a lot, in some ways they're like family, but that don't extend to actual forgiveness if Larry screws up. He might be Junior as long as he's in Joe's good books, but Larry knows he would turn into easy-to-kill Mr White the moment he put a foot wrong.

Still, Larry hates that he has no way to reassure Freddy besides kissing him hard before they leave the apartment and telling him, "We're gonna be okay, Freddo."

Freddy looks scared and doubtful, and for the first time in days, Larry sees him as that frightened whippet, as a scared kid who thinks he's run out of luck and is gonna get his brains splattered all over the wall. He didn't realise how much Freddy had relaxed, how comfortable he'd gotten, until the nerves came back. Freddy's face is drawn and pale, his eyes huge, and he sucks on his bottom lip like his life depends on it.

Larry can't even pull him close, hold his hand as they head out, just... do something. Anything. Anything at all that might help.

He's not used to feeling so fucking  _powerless_.

The ride over is tense and quiet; Larry steers with one hand and rubs Freddy's knee with the other, taking advantage of the relative privacy of the car. When he glances over, Freddy's looking out the window, staring at the road, then turning wide, frightened eyes on Larry like Larry's taking him to his execution.

"It's gonna be okay," Larry says again, "we're gonna be okay, kiddo. Joe's gonna change the meet, and everything is gonna be fine."

Freddy blinks a couple times, then he's scooting as close as he can get into Larry's side. Larry wraps his arm around Freddy's shoulders, presses a kiss to his temple, and they stay that way until they're pulling up at Joe's place. Larry wants to kiss Freddy properly then, but even sitting in the car wrapped up together seems like a risk. He gives Freddy a squeeze, then reluctantly nudges him upright.

Freddy takes a deep breath and nods, straightening his clothing and his hair, wiping his hands over his face, which is set in a serious, un-Freddy-like expression. It's like he's preparing for battle, but maybe that ain't so far from the truth. Larry watches the mask slip down, watches Freddy clothing himself in Orange. He's both impressed and really hates it.

He can see Freddy peeking out from under Orange's swagger when they get out the car, the funny, quirky kid Freddy could never completely hide under Orange's casual exterior, and it's comforting to know his Freddo is still in there.

But the last few days, he's gotten to know and love the real Freddy, has seen so much more than glimpses, and hates that has to get covered up for any reason. He knew a lot about that Freddy anyway without even realising it, knew enough to really care about him, but it's different now. It's different when they've been honest with one another. It's different when they've been sharing a bed and each other's space and pleasure.

Larry liked Orange plenty - liked his humour and his smile and his guts, was starting to fall for him already. But it's Freddy he loves, and he hates Orange for getting in the fucking way.

Freddy gets a cigarette into his mouth and puffs on it hard, like he needs it more than oxygen.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Larry says.

Freddy nods and rolls his shoulders, sucks more nicotine into his lungs, then tosses the cigarette down without even stamping it out. That... if Larry had to guess, he'd say that was Orange. Freddy wouldn't litter; Orange doesn't give a fuck. When they make their way over to Joe's, the swagger is back at full volume, and Larry has the uncomfortable feeling he's walking with a near-stranger.

It's fine, it's okay, until they're inside and Joe appears. Larry realises his mistake the second he sees Joe's face darken, but it's way too fucking late to fix it.

 _Shit_. This thing with Freddy feels so solid, so comfortable, it didn't occur to him not to bring Freddy to Joe's house. Why wouldn't he? Joe's his friend, and Freddy is his... fucking everything... so in all the thinking and planning, it never registered that Joe would wanna fucking kill him for bringing the new, untried, almost unknown kid to his actual home. Would wanna do worse to Freddy.

Larry is a stupid fucking asshole, so fucking in love he's fucked up before they even say a word, and all he can do is put himself between Joe and Freddy, hold up his hands, and plead. "Joe, we got stuff to tell you, it's important, you gotta listen, okay? Or this whole thing is fucked before we even start."

(Freddy is practically shaking next to him, all of the coolth he managed to summon up deserting him. He fumbles for another cigarette, then shoves the pack back in his pocket without getting one.

Larry is relieved. Freddy blowing lazy smoke rings is one thing, but he reckons Freddy chewing on the filter and hyperventilating wouldn't exactly seem reliable or believable.)

Joe's regular expression is pissed. When he's goddamned furious, he's pretty fucking scary even for Larry. He looks like he's one wrong move away from blowing both their heads off, and Larry keeps speaking, low and smooth but urgent. "We got information, Joe. The fucking pigs are watching, and we need to change the fucking plan. They're gonna put you and Eddie in the joint, they're gonna throw away the fucking key."

Eddie is Joe's weak spot. Larry can practically see the idea of Eddie being locked up winning over the anger of Larry bringing Freddy here. Joe's not exactly putting out a welcome mat, but he stops looking at Freddy like he wants to rip Freddy's head off and starts looking at Larry instead.

"Better fucking come through," he says, and leads them to his study.

Larry knows it's not a reprieve, knows Joe's only hesitation over killing them in here would be the cleanup. Still, it's a sign Joe's ready to listen, even if he's reluctant, and if Larry can keep them both alive long enough to make Joe understand, they might get out of this in one piece.

Freddy's gotten a hold of himself now, relaxing into it more as Joe goes from incandescent to merely very pissed, and Larry is proud of Freddy for pulling himself together.

The next cigarette Freddy plucks from the pack doesn't get chewed on. He's back to lounging like a fucking cat, and he blows a smoke ring right in Joe's face with a nonchalance Larry wants to laugh at.

"So what's the deal?" Joe asks.

Freddy shrugs a shoulder, blinks slowly, takes another drag. "They got eyes on the warehouse," he says, like five minutes ago he wasn't about ready to rabbit.

Joe is predictably sceptical, but Larry figures Freddy - well, Freddy-as-Orange, anyway - can handle this, so he leans back in his chair and lets Freddy do what he does, and tries to keep the stupid grin of pride off of his face. God, the balls on this kid. Larry can't even take it. Knowing what he knows, he's just... ridiculously fucking impressed and falling a little more in love as he watches Freddy play Joe like a fucking pro. Kid missed his calling; he shoulda been a fucking movie star.

Okay, so maybe Larry's biased, but for fuck's sake. Freddy is both Lana fucking Turner and a complete dork. As soon as he moves or grins or does anything but lounge, as far as Larry's concerned, it's fucking adorable, but right now... Freddy's keeping it cool and pulling off the smalltime crook he made up. If Larry had only seen him at that meeting when Joe laid out the plan for them all, maybe he'd be fooled too.

Orange may not be Freddy Newandyke, but he's fucking convincing.

Larry remembers, though. Remembers Freddy at the bar, so deep in his storytelling, expansive and excited like a big fucking kid. Remembers Freddy looking at him with a mixture of awe and what Larry really hoped was lust when Larry told him stories and gave him tips and bought him tacos. Even if he was still in the dark, even if he hadn't met the real man under the cover story, Larry thinks he'd see through the casual drape of Freddy's body in his chair, he'd realise there was more to Freddy than this image. Hell, he made Freddy laugh plenty before he knew Orange was playing them. He was fucking surprised Orange was a cop, but finding out he's kind of a goober... not a shock. And he already knew the kid was queer and closeted and painfully awkward. Yeah, Larry was blindsided by Det. Freddy Newandyke, but Freddy Newandyke, queerass nerd and hopeless dork? That's who Larry was halfway in love with before ever hearing his fucking name.

Even though he knows, he's still halfway buying the act. It strikes Larry how it never did before that Freddy is really good at his job, and that he's burning all his bridges for Larry, for Larry's sake, Larry's safety, and Larry wonders again if Freddy is a fool or an angel. Either way... Larry is so goddamned screwed, and so goddamned in love, and he cannot wait to get out of here. Sure, sure, he's impressed by Freddy (and it's all kinds of hot to see him play Joe so easy), but he mostly just wants his dork back and is itching for this to be over.

Joe really doesn't want to change the plan. Larry could fucking yell at him for being so goddamned stubborn, but Joe's cautious, and Joe's confident in his planning, and he's not gonna let Freddy be vague.

"Tell me how you found out, and I'll decide if it's fucking legit," he says. "My fucking job, my fucking team. If you don't stop screwing around, I'll find another way to make you squeal."

"Look, it's legit," Freddy says, colour rising in his cheeks. It's not fear, it's anger - it's Orange, not Freddy. "Does it matter how I fucking got it?"

"Yeah, kid," Joe says, and Larry has been calling Freddy kid for over a fortnight now, but the way Joe says it makes him clench his fists. "Yeah, it does fucking matter how you got it."

Freddy glowers, and in a different situation it would be fucking cute. He's being tough and 'Mr Orange' and shit, but for Larry, it's like watching a skinny little whippet who learned how to growl. Later, once they're out of here and Larry can breathe easier, he's gonna laugh his ass off about it; right now, he just wants Freddy to do what he has to do, say what he has to say, be Mr Orange as hard as he can and convince Joe not to blow his brains out.

Freddy hates this - hates being cornered, Larry can see it. Hates outing himself to Joe, even if the words are half truths and omissions and lies, and all Larry can do is will him to keep going.

Joe stands and leans over his desk, and even Larry is a little intimidated.

Freddy's not much less stubborn than Joe, but thank God, he has some sense of self-preservation. He basically pouts, but on Orange it looks more moody and less stinkin' cute. (Though it is still fucking cute, at least to Larry.) One more smoke ring, which somehow manages to convey utter contempt for the whole situation, then, "I sucked a cop, okay?"

Joe's expression doesn't change.

"I suck him off, he tells me stuff he shouldn't." Larry's reasonably sure it's only 'cause he knows Freddy that he can see how uncomfortable Freddy is saying it aloud. "Sometimes I let him suck me after."

"Let him?" Joe sounds disapproving/doubtful/disgusted.

Freddy shrugs a shoulder, even manages to twist his mouth like he doesn't think sucking cock is a fucking treat. "He likes it." He's playing for Joe's benefit here, but he manages to throw a Mr Orange smirk in Larry's direction. "Look, I ain't proud, but you do what you gotta." A shrug. "I use what I've got. What I've got is I'm pretty." He even bats his eyelashes, the cheeky fucker.

"Huh."

"He's a dirty cop, he gets off on it. Making a crook suck his dick, then selling out his cop friends."

Freddy says it so matter of fact, it makes something clench in Larry's chest. He wonders if Freddy's actually done that - not to get information out of a dirty cop, but maybe to save his hide or not get beat up. God knows a queer little streak of nothin' like Freddy's had to use his mouth to get himself out of all kinds of shit, and there's no guarantee he could talk his way out every time.

It... it kinda hurts to think about. Larry's always been able to take care of himself, always had his fists to rely on, or a gun. Even when he was just a kid, he could fight his way out of most anything. No one ever made him take their cock anywhere he didn't want it; it sickens him to realise Freddy probably can't say the same. It makes him even more determined no one is ever gonna do that to his boy ever again.

He tunes back in to the conversation just in time to back Freddy's story up (God, the kid has the fucking gift of the gab - if he didn't know better, Larry would believe every goddamned word), and to see Joe subside behind his desk and look resigned.

"Fucking pigs," he grumbles as he paws through the mess of papers. "You see any of those fuckers again, you fucking well shoot to kill."

Larry can't help glancing at Freddy, can't help seeing the momentary look of horror on his face. Now Joe's attention is on his desk, Larry reaches out to brush his knuckles against Freddy's, but- God, no, he stops himself. He can't take the risk. He'll make up for it later.

Freddy notices anyway and gives him a little shadow of a smile, then he takes a deeper breath and his eyelids flicker. It's fucking frustrating not to be able to touch, but Larry's made Freddy relax a bit; it may not be a lot, but he'll take it.

Joe heaves a sigh, gets up, rounds the desk, and looks at them both for another moment, like he's making a decision, or like he's still weighing things up in his head. Then he's heading for the door.

"Junior."

It's a summons, and in these circumstances, Larry doesn't feel like he can disobey. He gives Freddy's shoulder a quick squeeze and follows Joe, tries not to think about the heavyset guy standing just outside the door, about leaving Freddy alone anywhere in this house, about what Joe would do to Freddy if he suspected for one second that Freddy was a cop.

Joe walks him to another room (out of earshot - Larry tries not to read too much into that), then he's turning on Larry, glaring at him, eyes narrow and suspicious.

"You got anything you wanna tell me, Junior, now's the time."

Larry keeps his breathing slow and even. "Already told you what we came to tell you," he says.

Joe moves in a little closer. Larry's not used to Joe looking at him this way, and he doesn't know if he should just grit his teeth and take it, or if Joe's expecting him to push back. He doesn't know how to react, so he stands his ground but resists the urge to ask what the fuck is Joe's problem.

"You believe him?"

Larry frowns. "Got no reason not to."

Joe grunts. "That so?" He studies Larry's face. "I ain't convinced."

Larry swallows hard. He wants to ask why, but he doesn't trust his voice.

"Fucking convenient he happened to suck the right copper's dick," says Joe. "Awful fucking convenient the new kid has fucking inside knowledge. Almost too fucking good to be true."

Larry swallows again. "Due some luck," he says.

"I make my own fucking luck. Research and planning and fucking instinct. And that kid..." Joe shakes his head. "I ain't sure. I ain't ever been sure."

Nausea wells up in Larry's gut. He thought Joe was on board, convinced. He thought - he  _knew_  - that Freddy's act had everyone, especially Joe, sold on Orange as an asset, as reliable and promising. As a kid who was ready to move up into the big leagues and would do well there.

It never for one second occurred to him Joe was uncertain.

"He's a good kid," Larry manages. "Joe, trust me on this. He's a good kid, he's smart and you can trust him." Fuck, this was a mistake. Why didn't they just say screw it and drive to Mexico?

Joe looks at him, face dark, expression sceptical. "Or he's giving us false information and a bunch of pigs are gonna be up my ass and taking us all the fuck down."

If Larry was less fucking terrified about what Joe might do to Freddy, he'd be amused how right and how wrong Joe's managing to be. Freddy may not be who he told Joe he is, but he's just as keen to avoid his fellow cops as Orange would be. Might even have more to lose than Joe or Larry does, after what he's told Joe. Coppers don't do well in prison.

(Because Larry's right about Freddy, yeah? Because even if he still don't get why Freddy would throw his life away for an ageing crook, he has to trust it's true.)

"Or maybe he's just making stuff up so he looks good, so I'll remember him for the big jobs."

"You think he'd make shit like that up? Sucking a cop's dick?"

"Oh, I believe he's a cocksucker." Joe's face twists with distaste. "Don't mean he's not feeding us a line."

Larry shakes his head emphatically. "I know this man," he insists. "He wouldn't do that."

Another mistake he realises too late. He's not supposed to know Freddy. He's not supposed to have a fucking clue what Freddy would or wouldn't do. He doesn't see any way to escape, can't take it back, so he just keeps his face as neutral and casual as he can.

"Yeah?" says Joe. He gets up in Larry's face even more, and Larry wants to slug him one, but he can't antagonise Joe when it's not just his own neck on the line. "Who else has he been sucking?" Joe continues. "You sure you don't got something else you wanna tell me, Junior?"

Larry's mouth goes dry, and he doesn't answer.

"If I find out..." Joe leaves the threat hanging. It's not like Larry needs a fucking diagram here.

"Joe," he says, keeping his voice even and calm, "the information is good, you can trust- trust Orange-" God, he hates the stupid codenames, he came that fucking close to saying 'Freddy' instead - they need to get out of here "-you got other places we can take the stones. It's easy, Papa." And there's another name that sticks in his throat, but he has to do whatever he can to make Joe believe him, to remind Joe how long they've known each other. "It's gonna be fine, all we gotta do is change the meet."

Joe studies Larry's face for a long, long moment, then scowls. "If it goes bad," he says, his voice also even but low and dangerous, like he could boil over any second, "I'll shoot the little fucker myself."

Every muscle in Larry's body tenses up - he wants to smash Joe's head against the wall. "It won't," he manages to grind out. It's better to say that than to say if Joe touches a hair on Freddy's head, Larry will tear him to pieces with his bare hands. Larry's instinct is to protect Freddy, to put himself between Freddy and danger, but with Joe's suspicion... if he threatened Joe, Joe might decide Junior had gotten too goddamned mouthy, might fucking well kill them both right here - or get his goons in to beat twelve kinds of shit out of them, or maybe make Larry watch as they pummel Freddy, and  _then_  kill them - so Larry grits his teeth and bites back all the things he wants to say.

If he lashes out, he might as well have shot Freddy three days ago, except he would probably have been more merciful than Joe will be if Joe figures out what's going on. Better Joe thinks they're just screwing around. A casual fuck between crooks is one thing; Larry's loyalty being called into question would be a goddamned disaster. Larry being loyal to a cop? Joe can never, ever know who Freddy really is.

There's a moment when Larry thinks he's fatally screwed up, when he thinks Joe is about to pull his gun or call one of his thugs in. It's tense, silent in a way that roars in Larry's ears.

Then Joe makes a noise, some combination of angry, frustrated and resigned. "Better fucking not go bad," he says, and it's not like he's letting Larry (or Freddy) off the hook, but it looks like they might make it out of the house alive, and fuck it, Larry ain't fussy right now.

Joe steps out of Larry's personal space (Larry takes his first deep breath in several minutes), and frowns at the door like he's seeing through the walls to where Freddy's sitting.

"6pm," he says at last. "Usual place. Make sure the kid is there."

Larry's so relieved, he can't even find the energy to be pissed off at Joe for calling Freddy that anymore. "Okay," he breathes. "I'll make sure." It occurs to him that Joe's just accidentally given Larry an excuse to keep Freddy close the rest of the fucking afternoon, and he could almost laugh.

"Now get the fuck outta my sight."

Larry don't need telling twice. He gets out of the room before Joe can change his mind or ask any more awkward questions, and he's grateful he's familiar enough with this house that he doesn't need directions to go find Freddy.

The big motherfucker is still outside the study, but he doesn't try and stop Larry, and when Larry opens the door, Freddy is up out of his seat (and in one piece, one fucking beautiful, undamaged piece) and following Larry out without another word spoken.

The door slamming closed behind them is such a goddamned relief to hear. They're not home free, and after realising how suspicious Joe is, Larry reckons they need to take some serious fucking precautions to make sure they don't tip their hand. But Freddy can fool Joe a couple more days. And fuck, Larry's just so glad they made it out.

"Fuck," he says, with feeling, as they cross the street and it sinks in that at least part of their plan has worked. "Fucking hell."

Freddy giggles. Less because there's anything to laugh about, Larry reckons, more out of pure relief, but fuck, Larry don't even care when they're both still alive and Joe took the bait, even if he wasn't happy about it. Larry gets them back to the car and driving away, driving back to safety, and then it hits him too, and he laughs like a fucking fool, has to pull over on the side of the road because he's just not fucking safe.

When he looks over, Freddy's eyes are bright and sparkling, and fuck, he's so goddamn pretty, Larry wants to shove his hand down Freddy's pants and make him come to pieces right here.

But the laughter... God, the laughter feels so good.

"I can't believe we told Joe I sucked a cop to find that out," Freddy finally blurts out between giggles.

Larry pulls Freddy close and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Truth is, kiddo,  _I_  sucked a fucking cop for it."

"Copsucker."

"Brat."

Freddy grins against his neck. "But you love me anyway?" It comes out as a question, but Larry reckons it was meant to be a definitive statement.

Not that it matters. The response is the same anyway. "Yeah, Freddo. I love you. A whole fucking lot."

Freddy sighs happily, and the tension leaves his body, tension Larry didn't even notice until it was gone. "I love you too." He's not laughing any more, but his smile is still pressed into Larry's skin, and his voice is soft and warm and happy.

Larry tugs his chin up, kisses him slow and tender. "It's gonna be okay," he says, for the thousandth goddamned time, and he almost believes it himself. He isn't even gonna think about that conversation with Joe. And Joe knows fuck all anyway, and Larry is gonna fucking well keep it that way. "It's fucking well gonna be okay."

Freddy cuddles up into Larry's side. "It's gonna be okay," he murmurs, and maybe he doesn't sound all that convinced, but he's saying it.

Larry hauls him in a little closer, starts the car again and pulls out into the road. "C'mon, baby. Let's go home."

_~ fin ~_


End file.
